Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2))

by Kelley, Morgan

  Elizabeth didn’t want to take a bubble bath alone. There was this overwhelming need to be with her husband right now. When he hurt, she hurt and now he needed to be reassured. Now she just had to find him and lure him back upstairs.

  When she found him, her heart stopped beating. Rarely was she ever able to catch him off guard emotionally. Obviously, he didn’t expect her to come downstairs. Ethan Blackhawk stood facing the island, arms braced and the pain so evident on his face. The anguish had him so tight in its grip, he believed himself to be alone in their kitchen. Her heart twisted in her chest. He was battling it on his own, when he’d had just as ugly a day as she did. Tonight her husband needed her too.

  Elizabeth went to him and touched his arm. “Ethan?” When he looked over, his eyes were filled with pain and suffering, and tears he refused to let fall.

  “I’m sorry, do you need me to get something for you?” He tried to bury it all and keep it from her.

  “It came back negative,” she actually saw the relief and the tension ease. “I want to take a bubble bath with my husband and order Chinese. We need to lean on each other right now and heal. I need you as much as you need me.”

  Blackhawk stared down at their linked fingers and made the decision to follow her upstairs. Yes he could sulk and stay by himself, but then they wouldn’t heal. Right now, he needed his wife desperately.

  “Let’s go upstairs Ethan,” she said, waiting patiently.

  “Okay, baby.”

  Elizabeth grabbed both their robes from their bedroom, and he filled the tub with lots of bubbles. They both sunk in and although they didn’t laugh or frolic, they still connected. When she wanted to cry, he held her and she did the same for him. Together they began the journey back to resuming their lives together. Ethan and Elizabeth Blackhawk were an unbreakable team, and they were going to remain that way, despite the killer’s attempt to shatter them into pieces.

  Love was a great Band-Aid to the battered soul.

  * * *

  Thomas Mason was mad as hell, and someone was going to have to pay. Not only had his beautiful and priceless bones been taken, but his house was purged of all his precious souvenirs. The stupid woman escaped, and now his identity had been found.

  Damn the Blackhawks!

  This wasn’t how it was all supposed to work out. His ultimate goal was to not be discovered and then swoop in when someone killed the sons. Now it was all a twisted mess. Every one of the Blackhawks had been a curse on his life from the day he was born. Their vile blood ran through his veins, and there was just one thing left to do. Oh no, he wasn’t finished with the family yet. Because of their meddling, he wouldn’t be welcomed back as the son they didn’t know existed. One option remained and he would enjoy every second of that plan.

  Thomas Mason would eradicate them all.

  * * *

  Blackhawk listened to the slow easy breathing of his wife. They had dinner in bed, and talked more about how they both felt. Granted he was considerably calmer, but he didn’t think he’d ever get over the events of that day. They shaped him and almost broke him, but he knew his wife understood.

  Before she fell asleep, he’d been tempted to make love to her to heal her heart, but in the end he just couldn’t do it. He was still too raw, and didn’t know if he could keep the anger inside and be gentle like she needed. After that day, the last thing he wanted was to scare or hurt her more. Instead he just let it go, and put her first. If she noticed, she said nothing and that gave him a little tension; he didn’t want her to think he didn’t want her now, he just couldn’t get there mentally yet.

  More than likely it was he, who needed time.

  Instead, he opted to cradle her into his body. After nearly losing her, just holding her in his arms until he finally joined her in sleep, was all he wanted at that moment.

  That was a lie.

  There was one other thing he wanted and planned on getting.

  The death of his half-brother, Thomas Mason.

  Wednesday Morning

  Elizabeth woke slowly, and she could feel her husband in bed practically beneath her body. Her head was on his chest, and hand on his heart. He was steadily breathing and his heart was at an easy tempo beneath her hand. It was normal she was up first, but this morning she didn’t slide out of bed and rush to get coffee. Today she was going to wake him up and help them reconnect.

  Last night, she waited for him to touch her, and when he didn’t, she tried to not feel hurt or disappointed. He was entitled to have a day where he just wasn’t up for sex, and if there was a day to feel that way, it had to be yesterday. It wounded her a little, but she swallowed it. What could she do? The whole ‘no sex’ thing was written off for what it was, them both being exhausted and out of sync.

  Now this morning was a different story. Elizabeth was going to take matters into her own hands, and push them back into sync whether he liked it or not.

  Letting her hands trail over his chest and ribs, she enjoyed the feel of his flesh beneath her fingers, and the beautiful art that covered his body. He truly was her warrior. Just seeing the tattoos warmed her own body to the point that she was finding herself leaving kisses across his chest and shoulders. Elizabeth couldn’t get enough of her husband and never would.

  Blackhawk was slowly waking, and could feel the gentle fingertips and lips of his wife, leaving warm trails across his body. Against his belief that she needed space to heal, he found himself waking up under her ministrations. The most seductive part was the silky feel of her hair sliding across his skin. Of all the thing in the world, burying his hands in her hair was one of his most treasured joys.

  He was going to let her set the pace, and just enjoy her exploration. Rarely did he wake with her beside him and this morning, she was working on healing them both. It was obvious to him; she knew that she had to be the one that took the first step.

  It was time to really wake him up. Elizabeth climbed onto her husband’s body and slid him home. When he moaned and opened his eyes, she smiled down at him. “Good Morning, Ethan.”

  “Yeah, it is now,” he grinned back and then stopped breathing, as she began moving slow. It was torturously slow in fact.

  “I thought I’d wake you up instead of sneaking away.” She leaned down bracing her body over his, so they were touching all the way up their torsos, just their mouths were apart. The gentle rocking continued, and it was delicious and comforting.

  Blackhawk slid his hands up her body one hand on her hip, the other at the back of her neck, and just gazed into the icy blue eyes. “You can wake me up every morning, Elizabeth.” She was killing him. The slow, warm slide of her body and the gentleness made him just want more and more.

  “Maybe, I will,” she answered, bringing her lips down to his and slowly made love to him with the kiss. It was an exploration of mouth and body. She kept the kiss going, as her body tightened around her husband. Now he was arching up to meet her, trying to bury himself deeper in her body. Elizabeth loved riding her cowboy, but she wanted him to heal too. She rolled, bringing him to the top. Now he could control their lovemaking and find the depth he wanted and needed.

  He broke the kiss and stared down into her face. All he saw was adoration staring back at him. “I didn’t get to tell you yesterday, but happy anniversary.” Blackhawk continued, moving slowly. It was torture to keep the rhythm that she had set. His body was already shaking and willing him to break apart.

  “I love you,” she said, breathlessly as he slid completely into her.

  “I love you too.” And then he kissed her, as her hands explored and his body took what it needed. There was no way he was going to last much longer; she was undoing him with tenderness. Once again Elizabeth knew what he needed, and his heart opened wider and loved even more if that was possible.

  “More, Ethan,” she whispered, and then pulled his mouth down for a kiss, burying her hands in his hair.

  Blackhawk gave her what she wanted, longer harder thrusts that stole both
their breaths. When she moaned into the kiss, he felt himself unraveling in pure want. He fought hard to remain in control, just until she found bliss, then he would follow.

  The warmth built, and she felt herself break the kiss. Elizabeth needed to look up into his eyes and be part of him for their climax. She tipped her hips at every thrust, and he moaned her name, and it set fire to her body. The quake began, and it rolled through her slow and seductively, pulling at his body, and now he completely shook as he moved harder into her.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered, even his voice shook as he followed her over the edge in the most amazing release. He laid his body over hers, until both of them were able to come down off the high of love making. He could feel his heart pounding, and hers doing the same, and he just closed his eyes.

  They both just lay there, neither saying a word, until Elizabeth broke the silence. “Are we going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, we’re very okay,” he answered, kissing her ear, and then her neck.

  “Good, because I feel like coffee, breakfast, and finding Thomas Mason,” she said. “That asshole took my favorite boots and belt buckle.”

  Blackhawk laughed. His wife was something. That after being drugged, abducted, hunted and forced to walk miles, her biggest concern was her boots and buckle. “I have them, so you can relax until after breakfast.”

  It cheered her up greatly. That he had her things, and that creep didn’t have any souvenirs belonging to her. She wasn’t going to be some memento of his sick game.

  When his phone rang on the bed stand, he rolled off her body and picked it up, putting it on speakerphone. “Hey, Callen. What’s up?”

  “Want some company this morning?”

  Blackhawk looked over at his wife, and she nodded.

  “I’m going to make breakfast. Come on over.”

  “Want me to bring anything?” he asked.

  “Nope, just yourself,” he hung up the phone and then kissed his wife. He still felt off balance about what had happened.

  Elizabeth ran her hands down his tattoos on his back, and lazily traced a few of them with her fingertip. Not surprisingly, her body began getting all warm again. The tribal art made her absolutely crazy; it was the combination of her husband’s body, and the art he’d placed across it. Touching him was never enough. Elizabeth left a trail of kisses up his back to his shoulders.

  “If you keep it up, Elizabeth I’m going to start mauling you.” Ethan glanced over his shoulder and grinned.

  “If you maul me in the shower, then we can cut down on water consumption and time until Callen gets here. The environment wins, and so do we,” she said, winking and lying back on their bed invitingly.

  “In that case, you know how fond we Natives are of saving the environment.” Blackhawk grabbed her ankle and slid her across the bed towards him.

  “I believe I’ve heard that before,” she answered, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picked her up, bringing them back together again. “Who am I to stop you from saving the world,” she muttered against his mouth, as she lured him in with more kisses.

  He felt the urgency in her mouth as he started carrying her across the room. His wife’s lips were doing wicked things against his throat and neck. When she whispered in his ear, he almost dropped her. “Elizabeth!”

  She couldn’t help but giggle as her husband carried her off to their shower.

  Elizabeth took her time getting dressed as her husband went down to their kitchen to make them breakfast. Now that she was alone, she allowed her thoughts to linger on the killer. The instinct that she relied on daily told her something bad was coming. He failed at destroying her and her husband, and the next ‘Blackhawk’ would be her brother-in-law.

  There was no doubt in her mind, he was going to make another attempt at the brothers, and she was going to be prepared. She was his victim once, but the second time it wasn’t going to happen. They were going to play by new rules, and Elizabeth was going to make sure that they won the next round against Thomas Mason. Over her dead body was the man getting to her husband or Callen.

  They were hers now.

  Heading to their gun safe, Elizabeth opened it and pulled her personal gun case out. Inside held the imprint of her Glock, a spare magazine, and the scope that clipped onto the gun. She remembered the way he sadistically taunted her in the forest, and how he sent Ethan pictures of her to break him. It was her turn to even the playing field.

  The laser scope was light, and honestly she didn’t need it. Her accuracy was deadly, but the recent incidents made her want to be extra sure that if she had to make a shot that it was hitting the target.

  If he made an attempt for her family or herself again, it wasn’t going to end well for him. Deep down, she knew she should be thinking about bringing him in for justice, but it was doing battle with her heart. Her family came first, and she was going to protect them one way or another. If it cost Elizabeth her badge, so be it. Once before she skirted the same line, to save the life of her best friend and partner, and she wasn’t afraid to do it again. This was all about family, and Elizabeth was a Blackhawk first and everything else second.

  Dressing in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt to cover the scratches all over her arms, Elizabeth carried her badge and gun down stairs. Until Thomas Mason was caught, she wasn’t taking a chance of being caught without protection.

  Lesson learned.

  Elizabeth allowed herself to get unfocused again, and it could have cost her everything she held dear.

  Blackhawk stood in the kitchen, talking on the phone to Gabe as his wife joined him. She was back into FBI mode, and it was hard to not notice her gun was clipped to her hip in the house. The alarm was still on, and it worried him that she might not be feeling safe. Then again, his eyes darted to his own sidearm, sitting two feet away on the kitchen counter, and he felt just as nervous.

  As the doorbell rang, Elizabeth stood to get it. She noticed her husband planned on following her to the door. “Make breakfast, Ethan. I won’t open it unless I know who it is,” she reassured him.

  Blackhawk nodded still talking to his boss, but when she walked around the corner, he picked up his Glock and listened for any noise.

  Just in case.

  Elizabeth peeked out the peephole first, hand on the butt of her gun. Once she recognized her brother-in-law, she shut off the alarm and unlocked the door. “Morning, Callen,” she said, stepping back and allowing the man to enter.

  “These are for you,” he said, holding out a bunch of flowers.

  “Wow! They’re beautiful. Thank you,” she said, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek and hug him. “I love them,” she said, breaking away in order to close the door, and reset the alarm. “Ethan’s in the kitchen. Come on back.” Elizabeth took him by the hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Apparently, he was shaken up by the previous day’s events too.

  If Elizabeth wanted to hold his hand, Callen wasn’t going to complain. The simple touch offered him so much peace.

  “Gabe, I have to go. My brother is here, and he is romancing my wife with flowers, so I have to kick his ass,” he grinned, listening to what his boss was saying. “Talk to you later.”

  Callen sat at the island smiling. He had been worried about them both most of the night. Not so much that the killer would come after them, but that his brother wouldn’t pull out of the guilt that was tormenting him. When Elizabeth put the flowers in water then wrapped her arm around his brother’s waist, he relaxed and stopped worrying. They were as strong as ever and maybe even stronger.

  “How’s things at granddad’s cabin?” asked Blackhawk, as he delicately ran his hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe the wounds he knew the sleeves hid.

  “Wyler stayed over there last night. Neither one of us wanted to leave granddad alone. Not until this killer is caught.”

  “Are you and Wyler okay?”

  He shrugged. “I think we’re working on it, and one day I believe we can have a decent relationship,”
and he genuinely hoped they would. After his brother and his sister-in-law left last night, he spent a few hours talking to his father. They discussed Wyler getting his mom pregnant, and he didn’t know that she refused his offer to marry him. That had been a big surprise. Had she accepted, then he would truly have been a Blackhawk. There were lots of things he learned about Wyler, and some of them they had in common. It was enlightening to have a father for the first time in his life.

  “Coffee, Callen?” she asked, hating to pull him out of his thoughts.

  “Yes please, Lyzee,” Whitefox accepted the coffee that Elizabeth had poured for him.

  “I’m glad you three all stayed together. Thomas Mason isn't mentally stable. No, that’s not accurate. He’s completely and totally unhinged,” she said. Elizabeth noticed that both of them were staring at her. “Well he is. Trust me, we had a conversation before he started playing hunter and those minutes were the scariest part of the entire ordeal.” They weren’t, but why stress her husband out even more.

  “A conversation about what?” he asked his wife, hoping his voice didn’t sound the way he felt. Scared, angry, and rattled were only a few of the myriad of other emotions threatening to break free at any second.

  Elizabeth knew he’d be reading it in the report she’d have to file anyway, so she figured it was time they talk killer over breakfast. “He has it in for the Blackhawk heirs.”

  Both men laughed.

  “Heirs to what? You already claimed the tree house and that’s about all there is.” Blackhawk genuinely found that funny.

  “Must be the secret family fortune,” snickered Whitefox.

  “Well there are all those rocks I collected as a kid, maybe they went up in value in the last thirty years.”

  Elizabeth smiled. She knew when her husband was tense, he either joked, or went silent. “Bloodlines. He told me he was pissed he was excluded and an outsider his entire life due to your father. He wants to take over as shaman for granddad.”